You hadn’t talked to your father in/Such a long time, he/Left the office early and came home/Late every night, your/Mother wore her mask so well, you couldn’t/See the pain, the guilt, you simply couldn’t tell that she was/Dying on the inside just/Like you never expected//
I let them try to change you into ex-/Actly what you weren’t and you/Stood up for yourself, how brave, what a/Man that makes you, you’re/So non-conformal, so unique, you’re so de-/Termined and yet so raw, can’t you see/That this e-motion is one/Hundred percent for real//
You talk of my ex-boyfriend so much, lets talk about/Your ex just for once, yes I/Know that she felt neglected, I can/Understand that, she/Felt as though you looked right through her, like she/Never existed in your eyes, you/Never treated her like some-/One you were supposed to love//
I used your love as an excuse to/Shut myself off, I didn’t/Want to share your love with the whole world so I/Kept it to myself, I/Am aware of how I can be, aware of/My complete disregard for your feelings, don’t/Lecture me on how to be/A better person//
You with your piercing stare, me with my/Long dark hair, what an odd pair we must’ve/Looked to that frail old couple, do you re-/Member that old roadside diner, you/Ordered us pancakes with syrup and some/Black coffee, we talked in such detail about your/Life, your parents, your mother, I/Know you miss her dearly//
And so the subject always came back to/Me and my treacherous past, you must’ve/Had so much fun flicking through those painful/Moments in my life, you/Used your position to make me feel weak in your/Cold stare, you pinned me down like a/Butterfly, wings flapping, eyes wide open/Begging for your mercy//
Perhaps just a few more seconds in that/Godforsaken room and I would’ve/Lost my mind completely, like some kind of/Lunatic, your tone of/Voice made the situation somewhat clearer to my/Inexperienced self, God do I re-/Member the look on your face once you/Realised what you’d done//
You’re the professional psychoanalyst, tell me/What the hell is wrong with me, am I/Too far gone to return to the/Life I lived before any of this, but then/How can I expect to be cured when I/Don’t even want to be, I just/Want some kind of re-lease from this/Feeling you force upon me//
Does it bother you that I first loved you because/You were the father that I needed so/Desperately, after all you were so very/Caring and nurturing, but then once/I had confessed my darkest secrets to you/Turned into the monster that I left be-/Hind, I don’t think you’ll ever know how/Sorry I am for that//
If you never wanted to see me again, you wouldn’t/Be sitting here right now, I know we/Said so many things we regret, or at-/Least I know I did, you/Loved to make me feel about as/Wanted as a broken toy, you were the/Five-year-old with the tendency to/Break all of your own rules//
Can you believe that it never even/Crossed my mind that you were with someone/Else when you were with me, how/Naïve is that? I mean/Why would a successful businessman/Such as yourself be interested/In someone like me, I couldn’t/Even use my knife and fork right//
It didn’t take long for you to change me into the/Exact opposite of what I/Was before I met you, my/Personality went through such an a-/Mazing transformation, you taught me how to/Be assertive and still possess the little/Girl charm that you said I would/ Never lose no matter what//
Monday 12 December 2005
Monday 5 December 2005
bitter? nah
i spent the weekend at adam's. he was so different somehow. well, i know exactly how. he was being so affectionate at times. not all the time. saying nice things and making gestures like moving hair out of my face holding onto me like i was sand slipping through his fingers. but if it's not natural then it's not real, is it?
is it?
i can't look at him. i can't let him see me. and i don't know why. every time i open my eyes my heart jumps when i see him staring right back. but he's my boyfriend. what's wrong with me?
we were in a club last night and we met up with some friends. his, obviously. when i'm sitting talking with them i feel as though i'm dragging the mood of everyone in the building down with me. i've got a smile plastered on my face for the entire duration of the conversation and i laugh in perfect timing over and over. i change my expression now and then; the smile remaining though. if it starts to hurt i go for a toilet break and the second i'm out of sight i'm some miserable looking girl walking up the stairs.
what the fuck could possibly be so wrong with her?
i practice some smiles and angles in the mirror while putting on some red lipstick. and i look into my own eyes and wonder how he can't see it when it's right in front of his face every time i look at him. then it's back down the stairs and on with the smile.
he's bored standing with me by the fire exit so i tell him he can go and play with his friends if he likes. while i sit at the back of the club on a chair by myself i try and find him on the dance floor, but i can't. even after forty five minutes i can't. i start wondering why he gets so bored with me all the time. he's the only person i really talk to now. he's basically my only friend now. and i bore him.
while i was looking for him on the dance floor i suddenly thought: he'd be better off single. and he would. i don't understand why i'm so miserable with him? it actually aches somewhere in my chest when i think about us. and i wish i knew why.
he dropped me off at the train station at ten past eight tonight. i had more than twenty minutes to wait for my train. he got my bag out of the boot and we said goodbye. i started crying before i was even inside. would it have been so difficult to have parked the car just ten metres away and have seen me onto my train? what was the rush to get me out of your house so fast? fucking top gear?
i hate sounding like this. i roll my eyes at people who go on like this. but it's little stupid blows and disappointments like this that bring me right down to the ground all the time. if he actually felt the way he acted (some of the time) this weekend then he wouldn't have said he wasn't going to fall asleep on me on friday - and then fall asleep on me on friday. he wouldn't have left me sitting alone on that stool watching the dance floor for forty five minutes on saturday. he wouldn't have left me downstairs watching tv in his living room on sunday afternoon while he sat at his computer browsing for car parts and opening his weekly newsletter. he wouldn't have fallen asleep for the last hour and a half we had together before he took me to the station, leaving me wide awake on the edge of his bed watching the never ending fucking story on tv. he wouldn't have put me on the 8:31 train home.
i don't believe the nice things you say to me. you don't make them sound real. like you don't even believe them yourself. what proportion of the feelings that prompted you to say you loved me the first time came from lust?
that night in Berlin happened because of what you told me about the party you went to. while you were on your way to that party i was on my way home from hospital. i got scared. i thought i was going to lose you soon.
do you hate me now?
is it?
i can't look at him. i can't let him see me. and i don't know why. every time i open my eyes my heart jumps when i see him staring right back. but he's my boyfriend. what's wrong with me?
we were in a club last night and we met up with some friends. his, obviously. when i'm sitting talking with them i feel as though i'm dragging the mood of everyone in the building down with me. i've got a smile plastered on my face for the entire duration of the conversation and i laugh in perfect timing over and over. i change my expression now and then; the smile remaining though. if it starts to hurt i go for a toilet break and the second i'm out of sight i'm some miserable looking girl walking up the stairs.
what the fuck could possibly be so wrong with her?
i practice some smiles and angles in the mirror while putting on some red lipstick. and i look into my own eyes and wonder how he can't see it when it's right in front of his face every time i look at him. then it's back down the stairs and on with the smile.
he's bored standing with me by the fire exit so i tell him he can go and play with his friends if he likes. while i sit at the back of the club on a chair by myself i try and find him on the dance floor, but i can't. even after forty five minutes i can't. i start wondering why he gets so bored with me all the time. he's the only person i really talk to now. he's basically my only friend now. and i bore him.
while i was looking for him on the dance floor i suddenly thought: he'd be better off single. and he would. i don't understand why i'm so miserable with him? it actually aches somewhere in my chest when i think about us. and i wish i knew why.
he dropped me off at the train station at ten past eight tonight. i had more than twenty minutes to wait for my train. he got my bag out of the boot and we said goodbye. i started crying before i was even inside. would it have been so difficult to have parked the car just ten metres away and have seen me onto my train? what was the rush to get me out of your house so fast? fucking top gear?
i hate sounding like this. i roll my eyes at people who go on like this. but it's little stupid blows and disappointments like this that bring me right down to the ground all the time. if he actually felt the way he acted (some of the time) this weekend then he wouldn't have said he wasn't going to fall asleep on me on friday - and then fall asleep on me on friday. he wouldn't have left me sitting alone on that stool watching the dance floor for forty five minutes on saturday. he wouldn't have left me downstairs watching tv in his living room on sunday afternoon while he sat at his computer browsing for car parts and opening his weekly newsletter. he wouldn't have fallen asleep for the last hour and a half we had together before he took me to the station, leaving me wide awake on the edge of his bed watching the never ending fucking story on tv. he wouldn't have put me on the 8:31 train home.
i don't believe the nice things you say to me. you don't make them sound real. like you don't even believe them yourself. what proportion of the feelings that prompted you to say you loved me the first time came from lust?
that night in Berlin happened because of what you told me about the party you went to. while you were on your way to that party i was on my way home from hospital. i got scared. i thought i was going to lose you soon.
do you hate me now?
Wednesday 16 November 2005
marmite
"are you happy?" he asks, his mouth against the back of her neck. she feels relieved she doesn't have to look at him, and focuses on the wall instead.
"yes," she replies. "you need to buy some more marmite."
he rolls away from her and onto his back.
she doesn't move. she already knows she's good at deflecting questions.
"yes," she replies. "you need to buy some more marmite."
he rolls away from her and onto his back.
she doesn't move. she already knows she's good at deflecting questions.
Monday 31 October 2005
seventeen year old wrinkles
i know, tut tut, when the fuck was my last entry...
i spent the whole weekend with adam again. it used to be exciting getting on trains and catching metros and meeting him at the station and everything. now i think maybe i'm getting a little tired of the 2 hour trek every friday. especially when i know that his car's sitting on his driveway all nice and clean and polished. am i writing this because i know that he'll read it?
we argued quite a bit this weekend. i remember when we used to talk about how we never argued. hmmm. before i go any further i'd like to point out that i'm not really being fair, seen as though i had nothing to write on here when everything was hunkydory. and now because it's not i'm having a bitch.
oh well. anyway...
anyone who's read this for long enough probably already knows that i'm fucked up. or do i just pretend i'm fucked up because i'm boring as fuck? sometimes i don't even know why i go quiet and cold when i'm with him. it's usually when i've seen something or heard something or thought about something that requires a bit more thinking than usual. that doesn't even make sense. basically, when my train of thought crashes head-on into something significant.
like my future. what the fuck is going on with me at the moment? sixth form drop-out? seriously hannah, what the fuck? another time.
my mother. anyone who's got a mum who's always had big boobs will understand that when one gets taken away it's as though that feeling of safety they gave you when you were a kid is ripped away from you. later, to be replaced with a silicon implant. it's hard to act big and brave when you're spoon feeding your morpheine-fuelled mum jelly in a hospital. or when you're scrubbing her blood out of a carpet. nuff said.
my social life. because i'm seventeen and shallow. i'd be lying if i said that in the past few years i''ve felt like a normal teenage girl. or am i just pretending i'm not? i find it really difficult to hold a conversation with someone my own age. i find myself literally taking a step back. literally sitting in the nearest corner. finding that try as i might, i just can't seem to get a word in half the time. as though i'm physically incompetent in conversing with a seventeen year old.
to be honest i'm lonely. i don't feel like i'm living anymore. today, i feel as though the only person who can make me feel valid simply 'doesn't give a fuck'. and doesn't care that he 'doesn't give a fuck' either. i don't want to be a corner shop: there for your convenience. and yet i jump before he even gets his hand out of his pocket to click his fingers.
when we're driving in his car i look at my reflection and wonder why the fuck i've got a smile on my face. it's there all the time like a fucking tattoo. giving me wrinkles at seventeen. when he falls asleep next to me i feel so unbelievably lost. as though he knows i'm floating around in space and is too tired to care.
things can be so perfect for an hour or two. i'm all that he thinks about and nothing distracts him. i'm beautiful and amazing. i can feel him loving me. i put my arms around him and i feel like i'm actually connected to him somehow.
and then he gets up and puts his clothes back on and walks away from me.
i know what the consequences of you're reading this will be.
i spent the whole weekend with adam again. it used to be exciting getting on trains and catching metros and meeting him at the station and everything. now i think maybe i'm getting a little tired of the 2 hour trek every friday. especially when i know that his car's sitting on his driveway all nice and clean and polished. am i writing this because i know that he'll read it?
we argued quite a bit this weekend. i remember when we used to talk about how we never argued. hmmm. before i go any further i'd like to point out that i'm not really being fair, seen as though i had nothing to write on here when everything was hunkydory. and now because it's not i'm having a bitch.
oh well. anyway...
anyone who's read this for long enough probably already knows that i'm fucked up. or do i just pretend i'm fucked up because i'm boring as fuck? sometimes i don't even know why i go quiet and cold when i'm with him. it's usually when i've seen something or heard something or thought about something that requires a bit more thinking than usual. that doesn't even make sense. basically, when my train of thought crashes head-on into something significant.
like my future. what the fuck is going on with me at the moment? sixth form drop-out? seriously hannah, what the fuck? another time.
my mother. anyone who's got a mum who's always had big boobs will understand that when one gets taken away it's as though that feeling of safety they gave you when you were a kid is ripped away from you. later, to be replaced with a silicon implant. it's hard to act big and brave when you're spoon feeding your morpheine-fuelled mum jelly in a hospital. or when you're scrubbing her blood out of a carpet. nuff said.
my social life. because i'm seventeen and shallow. i'd be lying if i said that in the past few years i''ve felt like a normal teenage girl. or am i just pretending i'm not? i find it really difficult to hold a conversation with someone my own age. i find myself literally taking a step back. literally sitting in the nearest corner. finding that try as i might, i just can't seem to get a word in half the time. as though i'm physically incompetent in conversing with a seventeen year old.
to be honest i'm lonely. i don't feel like i'm living anymore. today, i feel as though the only person who can make me feel valid simply 'doesn't give a fuck'. and doesn't care that he 'doesn't give a fuck' either. i don't want to be a corner shop: there for your convenience. and yet i jump before he even gets his hand out of his pocket to click his fingers.
when we're driving in his car i look at my reflection and wonder why the fuck i've got a smile on my face. it's there all the time like a fucking tattoo. giving me wrinkles at seventeen. when he falls asleep next to me i feel so unbelievably lost. as though he knows i'm floating around in space and is too tired to care.
things can be so perfect for an hour or two. i'm all that he thinks about and nothing distracts him. i'm beautiful and amazing. i can feel him loving me. i put my arms around him and i feel like i'm actually connected to him somehow.
and then he gets up and puts his clothes back on and walks away from me.
i know what the consequences of you're reading this will be.
Monday 27 June 2005
the circus
been two weeks since i moved into my new house now. it sucks that i don't see adam during the week anymore. when we do see each other it's so much better now though.
anthony contacted me on monday. i let him talk and waited to hang up. he's called out a mental health worker for his mother. i know what she's like - she's got severe paranoia, but she's harmless.
i just smile and nod when she talks about the people who come and inject fat into her thighs and the cameras on her eyes and the people who come and steal from her in the night.
she ties her windows and doors shut with rags and super glue. if that's what makes her feel safe then why not just let her get on with it? but no. anthony knows best.
on wednesday adam came down to my new house and we went for a meal at this carribean restaurant called ochis. then we went to the circus and drank a bottle of red wine. we've got this way of talking about feelings without mentioning them. it's strange. confusing too. when the converstion ends he seems satisfied and i'm left puzzled.
i wouldn't change him for the world. not a thing. i really want to take things further. i know it'll be so special. like he is.
anthony contacted me on monday. i let him talk and waited to hang up. he's called out a mental health worker for his mother. i know what she's like - she's got severe paranoia, but she's harmless.
i just smile and nod when she talks about the people who come and inject fat into her thighs and the cameras on her eyes and the people who come and steal from her in the night.
she ties her windows and doors shut with rags and super glue. if that's what makes her feel safe then why not just let her get on with it? but no. anthony knows best.
on wednesday adam came down to my new house and we went for a meal at this carribean restaurant called ochis. then we went to the circus and drank a bottle of red wine. we've got this way of talking about feelings without mentioning them. it's strange. confusing too. when the converstion ends he seems satisfied and i'm left puzzled.
i wouldn't change him for the world. not a thing. i really want to take things further. i know it'll be so special. like he is.
Wednesday 15 June 2005
moving on
i'm guessing it's wrong that while sitting on my patio step having my last cigarette in my old house, all i could think of were the memories of anthony and i. it made me very sad.
the primary one was of the new year just gone, when i sat in the very same place, smoking the same brand of cigarettes, crying uncontrollably. that was meant to be mine and anthony's anniversary of the night we met. we didn't quite get there though. ironically, he was with alison that night instead.
i phoned him. we talked for hours. he got out of prison on his birthday. he's on sick leave again with more pills for his depression. him and victoria are over. she said she couldn't cope with his shit anymore. i sympathise with her.
if he'd just sort himself out he wouldn't be such a loser. cos that's what he's turned into. should i feel guilty that this happened to him while he was with me? oh well. oops.
and there's adam. i don't ever want to do anything to hurt him. i care about him too much to jeopardise what i've got with him. it's too special. he is too special.
i said goodbye to anthony knowing very well i'd never ring him again and i'd never make an effort to see him. i won't tell him my new address.
i'm sick of this lingering feeling when i know that all i really want is to be with adam.
the primary one was of the new year just gone, when i sat in the very same place, smoking the same brand of cigarettes, crying uncontrollably. that was meant to be mine and anthony's anniversary of the night we met. we didn't quite get there though. ironically, he was with alison that night instead.
i phoned him. we talked for hours. he got out of prison on his birthday. he's on sick leave again with more pills for his depression. him and victoria are over. she said she couldn't cope with his shit anymore. i sympathise with her.
if he'd just sort himself out he wouldn't be such a loser. cos that's what he's turned into. should i feel guilty that this happened to him while he was with me? oh well. oops.
and there's adam. i don't ever want to do anything to hurt him. i care about him too much to jeopardise what i've got with him. it's too special. he is too special.
i said goodbye to anthony knowing very well i'd never ring him again and i'd never make an effort to see him. i won't tell him my new address.
i'm sick of this lingering feeling when i know that all i really want is to be with adam.
Tuesday 7 June 2005
adam the teacher/lover
the whole time adam's parents were away, we spent the time together in his house. i loved it. i think it brought us a bit closer together. it definitely helped move things forward a bit. physically speaking.
every single morning i woke up next to him, i smiled. and he smiled. and we moved closer to each other and closed our eyes again, together.
it was beautiful. i wanted to lie with him all day. sometimes i did.
i feel like he's teaching me so much. i'm learning to be myself with him, and in turn, i'm learning a lot about myself. stuff i never thought i needed to know. but i do. and it makes me see things differently.
he's so special.
i've never met anyone like him.
every single morning i woke up next to him, i smiled. and he smiled. and we moved closer to each other and closed our eyes again, together.
it was beautiful. i wanted to lie with him all day. sometimes i did.
i feel like he's teaching me so much. i'm learning to be myself with him, and in turn, i'm learning a lot about myself. stuff i never thought i needed to know. but i do. and it makes me see things differently.
he's so special.
i've never met anyone like him.
Thursday 2 June 2005
the asylum
when i got home last tuesday - the day of my last entry - i opened my front door to find a letter with my name and address written across the front sitting on the carpet, waiting for me. it was familiar, but i didn't recognise it.
i remember picking it up and turning it round with my fingers; intrigued. the postage mark said Anglia. whoever sent it knew that my middle name is May. i sat down at my dining room table and looked at it for a while. i started to feel ill. i wasn't sure why though.
i opened it.
Hello Hannah - sorry, Princess Hannah. Guess who? Anthony. Guess where I am?
Colchester Prison.
he has this cruel way of making me feel so bad for him when he's in trouble. apart from the phone call a few weeks ago, this was the only time he'd contacted me for months. now, though, he needed something. you see? now, he's lonely. now, he doesn't have victoria there. now, he's bored.
the next day i went out and bought the magazines and the stamps he asked for. after my english exams i sat in a cafe in durham waiting for my bus to arrive. i wrote him a letter. then ripped it up. and another. and ripped it up. i was so angry in those letters. i talked about me and him and victoria and adam. and dalziel. i was so angry.
in the next letter i stuck to safe topics. my exams. the moving date. my dog, lucky. his mother. his uncle. it was all so fake. he'll know that when he reads it. when i send it, of course.
the night before i received his letter i dreamt about him. he was in a mental asylum and he asked me to visit him. i did. everything was grey. it was raining outside. he was crying. he couldn't stand up because he was so weak. i sat down beside him.
he told me i had to prove to everyone that he wasn't crazy. they'd made a mistake. i should have been there instead. he begged me to confess. i stood up and walked away. and left him there. my footsteps echoed and his wailing pierced my ears. and i smiled.
he deserves everything he gets.
i remember picking it up and turning it round with my fingers; intrigued. the postage mark said Anglia. whoever sent it knew that my middle name is May. i sat down at my dining room table and looked at it for a while. i started to feel ill. i wasn't sure why though.
i opened it.
Hello Hannah - sorry, Princess Hannah. Guess who? Anthony. Guess where I am?
Colchester Prison.
he has this cruel way of making me feel so bad for him when he's in trouble. apart from the phone call a few weeks ago, this was the only time he'd contacted me for months. now, though, he needed something. you see? now, he's lonely. now, he doesn't have victoria there. now, he's bored.
the next day i went out and bought the magazines and the stamps he asked for. after my english exams i sat in a cafe in durham waiting for my bus to arrive. i wrote him a letter. then ripped it up. and another. and ripped it up. i was so angry in those letters. i talked about me and him and victoria and adam. and dalziel. i was so angry.
in the next letter i stuck to safe topics. my exams. the moving date. my dog, lucky. his mother. his uncle. it was all so fake. he'll know that when he reads it. when i send it, of course.
the night before i received his letter i dreamt about him. he was in a mental asylum and he asked me to visit him. i did. everything was grey. it was raining outside. he was crying. he couldn't stand up because he was so weak. i sat down beside him.
he told me i had to prove to everyone that he wasn't crazy. they'd made a mistake. i should have been there instead. he begged me to confess. i stood up and walked away. and left him there. my footsteps echoed and his wailing pierced my ears. and i smiled.
he deserves everything he gets.
Tuesday 24 May 2005
love and legs
i'm in school preparing for my german listening exam this afternoon. should go well if the practise papers are anything to go by. not that i'm being complacent or anything.
the weekend was yet again a turning point for adam and i. friday was the first time i ever felt good enough for him. we were in the beer garden with his friends, my friends - our friends. they all know each other in some weird way.
i had a jd with lots of ice and a marlboro light in my right hand after an hour long search for change for the cigarette machine. i was sitting on top of one of the tables - my legs were on show - they were pretty sexy that night. it was about midnight and it was getting cold. i watched adam talking to his friends a few metres away from where i sat.
something made me realise that i'm not really such a bad person. i'm not so ugly really. i'm giving him everything he needs. i care for him. a lot. more than i realised i did. he could do a lot worse than me.
we were invited to a party - we both just wanted to go home together though. so we went to his house. tea with marmite on toast. my idea of heaven. i love lying with him. when my head's on the pillow it's like i'm in another world, and then when i sit up i face reality again.
i took him to the salsa club in newcastle and we ate a big plate of nachos. in our dark corner of the room with the orange light glaring in my face we talked. we've started doing that a lot more lately. it makes it feel like a real relationship.
we've been dancing around four letter words. two in particular.
love:
1. A deep, tender, ineffable feeling of affection and solicitude toward a person, such as that arising from kinship, recognition of attractive qualities, or a sense of underlying oneness.
2. A feeling of intense desire and attraction toward a person with whom one is disposed to make a pair; the emotion of sex and romance.
Sexual passion.
Sexual intercourse.
A love affair.
fuck:
use your imagination, please.
maybe they need each other to work though. it has to be real for it to happen, right? i don't want to be blunt about it so figure it out. i had to.
the weekend was yet again a turning point for adam and i. friday was the first time i ever felt good enough for him. we were in the beer garden with his friends, my friends - our friends. they all know each other in some weird way.
i had a jd with lots of ice and a marlboro light in my right hand after an hour long search for change for the cigarette machine. i was sitting on top of one of the tables - my legs were on show - they were pretty sexy that night. it was about midnight and it was getting cold. i watched adam talking to his friends a few metres away from where i sat.
something made me realise that i'm not really such a bad person. i'm not so ugly really. i'm giving him everything he needs. i care for him. a lot. more than i realised i did. he could do a lot worse than me.
we were invited to a party - we both just wanted to go home together though. so we went to his house. tea with marmite on toast. my idea of heaven. i love lying with him. when my head's on the pillow it's like i'm in another world, and then when i sit up i face reality again.
i took him to the salsa club in newcastle and we ate a big plate of nachos. in our dark corner of the room with the orange light glaring in my face we talked. we've started doing that a lot more lately. it makes it feel like a real relationship.
we've been dancing around four letter words. two in particular.
love:
1. A deep, tender, ineffable feeling of affection and solicitude toward a person, such as that arising from kinship, recognition of attractive qualities, or a sense of underlying oneness.
2. A feeling of intense desire and attraction toward a person with whom one is disposed to make a pair; the emotion of sex and romance.
Sexual passion.
Sexual intercourse.
A love affair.
fuck:
use your imagination, please.
maybe they need each other to work though. it has to be real for it to happen, right? i don't want to be blunt about it so figure it out. i had to.
Thursday 19 May 2005
the pissed-off express
hmmm.
anthony phoned on saturday night. adam was with me at the time. we were getting ready to go to a party together.
he rang off a number i didn't recognise. i wouldn't have answered if i'd known it was him. he was stoned. he wouldn't tell me where he was. adam left my room and went downstairs to read the paper. annoyed.
he talked about his mum and his uncle. i asked him quick questions and didn't give him time to finish his answers.
i asked him how he was? depressed as fuck. on the pills again. are you actually doing anything about it? i've seen the paperwork for it this time. should be out by the end of the month. that was what you said in december. yeah. things are really different now. (i nodded my head to the reflection in the mirror. i'm so different now) yeah. i know.
he was crying. i pretended i didn't notice - i had a party to go to. i really hope you're well, hannah. (i smiled at the reflection in the mirror) i'm good, anthony. i'm really good. (i wanted to twist the knife in between his ribs - scraping the bone with every turn of the knife) good.
i have to go, anthony. yeah. see you around. take care, princess. (that last word made me melt). i tossed my phone onto the bed and stared at it.
poor anthony. i think he'll be dead by the end of the summer. he's so weak now. so different. i wish i knew what happened to him. november was so long ago. now, i'm strong enough to be able to say that it was his fault. he had me. he threw me away.
thank you anthony. thank you for improving my life.
anthony phoned on saturday night. adam was with me at the time. we were getting ready to go to a party together.
he rang off a number i didn't recognise. i wouldn't have answered if i'd known it was him. he was stoned. he wouldn't tell me where he was. adam left my room and went downstairs to read the paper. annoyed.
he talked about his mum and his uncle. i asked him quick questions and didn't give him time to finish his answers.
i asked him how he was? depressed as fuck. on the pills again. are you actually doing anything about it? i've seen the paperwork for it this time. should be out by the end of the month. that was what you said in december. yeah. things are really different now. (i nodded my head to the reflection in the mirror. i'm so different now) yeah. i know.
he was crying. i pretended i didn't notice - i had a party to go to. i really hope you're well, hannah. (i smiled at the reflection in the mirror) i'm good, anthony. i'm really good. (i wanted to twist the knife in between his ribs - scraping the bone with every turn of the knife) good.
i have to go, anthony. yeah. see you around. take care, princess. (that last word made me melt). i tossed my phone onto the bed and stared at it.
poor anthony. i think he'll be dead by the end of the summer. he's so weak now. so different. i wish i knew what happened to him. november was so long ago. now, i'm strong enough to be able to say that it was his fault. he had me. he threw me away.
thank you anthony. thank you for improving my life.
Wednesday 11 May 2005
one big weekend
had the weekend of all weekends last week. well, sort of.
went out on friday with adam, got pissed on wine again, which is always very funny. met up with some friends - who i actually think are pretty cool now. adam likes to wind them up. i hope she doesn't take it the wrong way. half the time i'm worried he's taken an innocent joke too far and my friends will think he's insulting them. he's not though. i don't think.
it sounds strange but in some weird way i feel like he's getting at me through my friends. he jokes about them being 'sluts' - which they aren't, and i always seem to get this silent, meaningful stare fix upon me. then i smile painfully and look away.
maybe it's just me.
when we got home that night he fell asleep in front of my fire downstairs. i left him and went to bed, kind of pissed off that he was drunk and i wasn't anymore. i went down there a few times and gave him a kick to get him upstairs but he wouldn't budge, and the last time i went down he was being sick in my kitchen sink. i wasn't impressed.
on sunday i ended up getting us both tickets for the big weekend at penshaw monument - for free - without queueing - yes i am amazing. i also have very nice friends (thank you, noah).
it was amazing - him and his friends lifted me up on top of the whole crowd and i watched the kaiser chiefs above everyone else. i got a funny feeling in the bottom of my stomach, like nostaligia. it was sad. but good. i felt dizzy when they put me down.
had my german orals yesterday - es war nicht zu schlecht.
denise (anthony's mum) phoned me last night. i'm going round there on saturday for a coffee and a chat. when i go there i'll take the rest of anthony's stuff. when i cleaned out the garage i found his golf clubs, the petrol canisters he stole from the army, and the guidebook for the toyota corolla my dad gave him - that he crashed.
there's also his big t-shirts i used to wear for bed, his thick army socks he gave me to keep my feet warm, his preppy jumper vest i used to take the piss out of him for wearing, and the army pants he gave me to sleep in the night i broke down when he had to leave again.
it's time for them to go.
went out on friday with adam, got pissed on wine again, which is always very funny. met up with some friends - who i actually think are pretty cool now. adam likes to wind them up. i hope she doesn't take it the wrong way. half the time i'm worried he's taken an innocent joke too far and my friends will think he's insulting them. he's not though. i don't think.
it sounds strange but in some weird way i feel like he's getting at me through my friends. he jokes about them being 'sluts' - which they aren't, and i always seem to get this silent, meaningful stare fix upon me. then i smile painfully and look away.
maybe it's just me.
when we got home that night he fell asleep in front of my fire downstairs. i left him and went to bed, kind of pissed off that he was drunk and i wasn't anymore. i went down there a few times and gave him a kick to get him upstairs but he wouldn't budge, and the last time i went down he was being sick in my kitchen sink. i wasn't impressed.
on sunday i ended up getting us both tickets for the big weekend at penshaw monument - for free - without queueing - yes i am amazing. i also have very nice friends (thank you, noah).
it was amazing - him and his friends lifted me up on top of the whole crowd and i watched the kaiser chiefs above everyone else. i got a funny feeling in the bottom of my stomach, like nostaligia. it was sad. but good. i felt dizzy when they put me down.
had my german orals yesterday - es war nicht zu schlecht.
denise (anthony's mum) phoned me last night. i'm going round there on saturday for a coffee and a chat. when i go there i'll take the rest of anthony's stuff. when i cleaned out the garage i found his golf clubs, the petrol canisters he stole from the army, and the guidebook for the toyota corolla my dad gave him - that he crashed.
there's also his big t-shirts i used to wear for bed, his thick army socks he gave me to keep my feet warm, his preppy jumper vest i used to take the piss out of him for wearing, and the army pants he gave me to sleep in the night i broke down when he had to leave again.
it's time for them to go.
Tuesday 3 May 2005
swans
of course it came out in the end. it was always going to. this, though, was perhaps the worst scenario i could possibly have forseen.
on sunday adam and i went to a hippy festival over at leazes park. it was cool. it was sunny and the ground was wet so the air smelled sweet like it used to years ago. there was beer and vegan food and fire throwing and guitar playing and adam's friends from work were there too.
i thought they looked at me funny but put it down to my drunken performance at their houseparty last friday. there was a lot of teasing about that. it started getting late and eventually his friends invited us out for a drink later. we accepted. i got home. got ready. made myself as pretty as i could possibly make myself.
we got the train into town and went for a drink together before we met up with everyone else. over our drinks we had our first proper conversation based on events from his past. he talked about his first girlfriend (me being only his 2nd, apparantely).
i could actually fully well imagine him being with the girl he described. it's weird. it actually didn't make me feel jealous. i liked listening to him talk about her. in some way, i hoped this would be the way he'd talk about me when we went our separate ways. we'll see.
later we met his friends and went to the telegraph. standing out on the balcony, the moon in the sky, the patioheaters glowing, music from the live band inside filling my ears, and adam.
he was all i could see. everything and everyone else was just a background behind him. nothing else seemed to matter but him. i felt so warm and sleepy and happy to be there with him. i smiled and blinked softly. he caught my eye. i raised my glass. he smiled at me. it was as though everyone else was invisible.
then his friend who was SkyCaptain at the party touched my shoulder and asked if he could have a word. "here's the thing - we all think you're really cool (who's all?) - and we all love adam to bits. the only reason we're going to let you know about this is because we think you're good for him, so -" "i don't understand (by this point i was very worried)"
i looked at adam who was standing at the other end of the balcony. "you told sooz something when you were pissed last week - (my heart started sinking)" he looked at me and smiled. i tried but failed. "- that you're not seventeen."
i was still looking at adam. my hands were placed across my stomach, discreetly holding in my guts that began to spill all over the floor. i stepped backwards, away from the conversation, away from the bloody mess on the floor, and almost stumbled. SkyCaptain held me up.
"we wanted to give you the chance to tell him before -" "who's we? who knows about this?" he looked towards the group of friends adam was standing with. "everyone but him." adam caught my eye again, looking concerned this time. i turned around and walked past the live band, past the bar, down the stairs, past the cigarette machine and out the door into the street.
i fumbled depserately for a cigarette in my bag - hands shaking. adam came out of nowhere and found my lighter for me. he asked what was wrong. i couldn't even begin to tell him.
he drove us to a park yesterday. the ground smelled sweet again. we sat by the lake and watched the swans on the water.
i told him.
on sunday adam and i went to a hippy festival over at leazes park. it was cool. it was sunny and the ground was wet so the air smelled sweet like it used to years ago. there was beer and vegan food and fire throwing and guitar playing and adam's friends from work were there too.
i thought they looked at me funny but put it down to my drunken performance at their houseparty last friday. there was a lot of teasing about that. it started getting late and eventually his friends invited us out for a drink later. we accepted. i got home. got ready. made myself as pretty as i could possibly make myself.
we got the train into town and went for a drink together before we met up with everyone else. over our drinks we had our first proper conversation based on events from his past. he talked about his first girlfriend (me being only his 2nd, apparantely).
i could actually fully well imagine him being with the girl he described. it's weird. it actually didn't make me feel jealous. i liked listening to him talk about her. in some way, i hoped this would be the way he'd talk about me when we went our separate ways. we'll see.
later we met his friends and went to the telegraph. standing out on the balcony, the moon in the sky, the patioheaters glowing, music from the live band inside filling my ears, and adam.
he was all i could see. everything and everyone else was just a background behind him. nothing else seemed to matter but him. i felt so warm and sleepy and happy to be there with him. i smiled and blinked softly. he caught my eye. i raised my glass. he smiled at me. it was as though everyone else was invisible.
then his friend who was SkyCaptain at the party touched my shoulder and asked if he could have a word. "here's the thing - we all think you're really cool (who's all?) - and we all love adam to bits. the only reason we're going to let you know about this is because we think you're good for him, so -" "i don't understand (by this point i was very worried)"
i looked at adam who was standing at the other end of the balcony. "you told sooz something when you were pissed last week - (my heart started sinking)" he looked at me and smiled. i tried but failed. "- that you're not seventeen."
i was still looking at adam. my hands were placed across my stomach, discreetly holding in my guts that began to spill all over the floor. i stepped backwards, away from the conversation, away from the bloody mess on the floor, and almost stumbled. SkyCaptain held me up.
"we wanted to give you the chance to tell him before -" "who's we? who knows about this?" he looked towards the group of friends adam was standing with. "everyone but him." adam caught my eye again, looking concerned this time. i turned around and walked past the live band, past the bar, down the stairs, past the cigarette machine and out the door into the street.
i fumbled depserately for a cigarette in my bag - hands shaking. adam came out of nowhere and found my lighter for me. he asked what was wrong. i couldn't even begin to tell him.
he drove us to a park yesterday. the ground smelled sweet again. we sat by the lake and watched the swans on the water.
i told him.
Thursday 28 April 2005
run bay, run
it's been a while again.
last friday adam and i went to his friend's fancy dress houseparty. i was nervous; his friends are all either university graduates or still studying for their degrees. and as i always seem to when my nerves are bothering me, i started to drink faster. there was home-made punch. it tasted like fruit juice. it went down easily. it was about 40% alcohol.
after falling off the washing machine a few times, knocking bottles off the top of the fridge and falling into a compromising situation with the ironing board, adam started to realise i wasn't exactly sober.
we sat with his friends in the sitting room for a while, and i knew i was gone. adam was his pissed-happy self, but i was definitely gone. i remember stumbling over to the stairs and meeting one of his friends on the steps. we talked about guns and how i tried to buy one from a toy shop for my spy girl idea, but they don't sell them anymore for some gay reason.
i don't really remember too much after that, but i went upstairs to the toilet and adam met me when i came out. i couldn't stand up straight. i fell backwards and hit my head against the door on my way to the floor.
apparantely i was out for a little while. people were fussing about with coffee and water and needless to say, adam got me in a taxi home.
on saturday morning i woke up and hugged my head in pain. then i looked at myself, wearing nothing but a black thong, then i looked to my left and saw adam. fully clothed, lying about as far way from me as possible.
i sighed. holy shit. what the fuck was i thinking? what an impression you made, hannah. well done. bet adam was proud.
we didn't do much that day. my head hurt. a lot. my kidneys hurt too. and my knee.
on sunday we walked for miles for the hell of it, then went to spoons to watch the newcastle match. all my friends were there. my sister too. adam seemed uncomfortable. i made an effort not to ignore him.
about an hour after we arrived there, i was looking towards the screen, and i saw someone wearing a white and turquoise jacket walk across the screen. he'd been sitting behind the pillar two metres away from where i was.
i HATE that jacket. he bought it for new year's eve. our anniversary. he spent that night with alison. then came to see me the next morning. it's only a two minute walk from house to house, afterall.
he walked over to the bar. he didn't look in my direction. he knew i was there though. i know he knew. i couldn't relax then.
his friend spender came over to our table to say hello to everyone. he didn't look at me either. eventually i touched his arm and he forced himself to look. he smiled, said hello, said goodbye.
i wonder what anthony told them all. he wouldn't make himself out to be the bad guy. i know he wouldn't. he probably told them something like i'd had a nervous breakdown and turned crazy. that was him though. not me.
i turned to adam.
how did he end up with me? poor boy. i'm sorry in advance.
last friday adam and i went to his friend's fancy dress houseparty. i was nervous; his friends are all either university graduates or still studying for their degrees. and as i always seem to when my nerves are bothering me, i started to drink faster. there was home-made punch. it tasted like fruit juice. it went down easily. it was about 40% alcohol.
after falling off the washing machine a few times, knocking bottles off the top of the fridge and falling into a compromising situation with the ironing board, adam started to realise i wasn't exactly sober.
we sat with his friends in the sitting room for a while, and i knew i was gone. adam was his pissed-happy self, but i was definitely gone. i remember stumbling over to the stairs and meeting one of his friends on the steps. we talked about guns and how i tried to buy one from a toy shop for my spy girl idea, but they don't sell them anymore for some gay reason.
i don't really remember too much after that, but i went upstairs to the toilet and adam met me when i came out. i couldn't stand up straight. i fell backwards and hit my head against the door on my way to the floor.
apparantely i was out for a little while. people were fussing about with coffee and water and needless to say, adam got me in a taxi home.
on saturday morning i woke up and hugged my head in pain. then i looked at myself, wearing nothing but a black thong, then i looked to my left and saw adam. fully clothed, lying about as far way from me as possible.
i sighed. holy shit. what the fuck was i thinking? what an impression you made, hannah. well done. bet adam was proud.
we didn't do much that day. my head hurt. a lot. my kidneys hurt too. and my knee.
on sunday we walked for miles for the hell of it, then went to spoons to watch the newcastle match. all my friends were there. my sister too. adam seemed uncomfortable. i made an effort not to ignore him.
about an hour after we arrived there, i was looking towards the screen, and i saw someone wearing a white and turquoise jacket walk across the screen. he'd been sitting behind the pillar two metres away from where i was.
i HATE that jacket. he bought it for new year's eve. our anniversary. he spent that night with alison. then came to see me the next morning. it's only a two minute walk from house to house, afterall.
he walked over to the bar. he didn't look in my direction. he knew i was there though. i know he knew. i couldn't relax then.
his friend spender came over to our table to say hello to everyone. he didn't look at me either. eventually i touched his arm and he forced himself to look. he smiled, said hello, said goodbye.
i wonder what anthony told them all. he wouldn't make himself out to be the bad guy. i know he wouldn't. he probably told them something like i'd had a nervous breakdown and turned crazy. that was him though. not me.
i turned to adam.
how did he end up with me? poor boy. i'm sorry in advance.
Tuesday 19 April 2005
he made me smile. he does that a lot
spent the weekend with adam again.
i went out with some girlfriends on friday, and at 9.55 i ran to get tabs from the shop that was about to close. it was raining buckets and i had my coat over my head, and i ended up running right into somebody. i said i was sorry and turned to run to the shop again.
then he shouted my name. i turned around. he started laughing. my heart sank to the bottom of my stomach. "what the fuck are you doing?" he said, smiling. i tried to laugh but it came out wrong.
we were standing about ten feet away from each other. he was soaked. i was getting soaked. neither of us were saying anything. he walked towards me.
"got to get to the shop by ten," i said and backed away. "bye." i turned around and started running again. i looked back when i reached the shop door. he was still standing there, looking straight at me. i opened the door and left him there, out in the rain. like i did the night of his breakdown.
inside, my heart was sinking deeper and deeper. my hands were trembling so badly i couldn't get my purse out of my handbag. the shop assistant asked if i was alright. i smiled nervously. "been too long since i had one," i said, picking up my cigarettes and handing over the money.
he wasn't there when i got outside.
i ran back to my friends and caught a taxi with them to somewhere else. i wasn't sure if i was glad or not that i was getting away from him. both, i think.
i started to drink faster - aware that i was feeling way too sober. and who walked in? with his new girlfriend? beau. of course that made me feel so much better.
we caught each other's eye when he was standing at the bar. he gave me that dry smile accompanied with a nod. i've given that look so many times. it kind of means please don't come and talk to me tonight. fuck him.
his girlfriend's not as pretty as me.
i found an old friend who was on leave from the navy and started talking to him - funnily enough he's one of beau's friends. i remember summer 2003 when beau used to take me to that same place and introduced me to all his friends. sitting in the beer garden, sipping a drink someone else bought me, talking to older interesting people. i loved it.
it's not quite the same anymore. i'm just a familiar face now.
the whole night had just depressed me. and then adam came and met me. he was drunk and happy with himself and he made me smile. he does that a lot.
on saturday he drove us up to my old village where i used to live. it made me quite sad to see how everything had changed. my old house looks grey and miserable. they've ripped down the fence and taken out the flower beds. they've built houses on the fields i used to play in. my old school, which used to teach just forty pupils has now doubled in size. my dragonfly mozaic is gone. the old traditional pub my dad used to take me to on wednesday nights is now a sports bar. clare the barmaid who used to plait my hair doesn't work there anymore.
i left feeling sad.
i guess we all grow up, and everything changes.
i went out with some girlfriends on friday, and at 9.55 i ran to get tabs from the shop that was about to close. it was raining buckets and i had my coat over my head, and i ended up running right into somebody. i said i was sorry and turned to run to the shop again.
then he shouted my name. i turned around. he started laughing. my heart sank to the bottom of my stomach. "what the fuck are you doing?" he said, smiling. i tried to laugh but it came out wrong.
we were standing about ten feet away from each other. he was soaked. i was getting soaked. neither of us were saying anything. he walked towards me.
"got to get to the shop by ten," i said and backed away. "bye." i turned around and started running again. i looked back when i reached the shop door. he was still standing there, looking straight at me. i opened the door and left him there, out in the rain. like i did the night of his breakdown.
inside, my heart was sinking deeper and deeper. my hands were trembling so badly i couldn't get my purse out of my handbag. the shop assistant asked if i was alright. i smiled nervously. "been too long since i had one," i said, picking up my cigarettes and handing over the money.
he wasn't there when i got outside.
i ran back to my friends and caught a taxi with them to somewhere else. i wasn't sure if i was glad or not that i was getting away from him. both, i think.
i started to drink faster - aware that i was feeling way too sober. and who walked in? with his new girlfriend? beau. of course that made me feel so much better.
we caught each other's eye when he was standing at the bar. he gave me that dry smile accompanied with a nod. i've given that look so many times. it kind of means please don't come and talk to me tonight. fuck him.
his girlfriend's not as pretty as me.
i found an old friend who was on leave from the navy and started talking to him - funnily enough he's one of beau's friends. i remember summer 2003 when beau used to take me to that same place and introduced me to all his friends. sitting in the beer garden, sipping a drink someone else bought me, talking to older interesting people. i loved it.
it's not quite the same anymore. i'm just a familiar face now.
the whole night had just depressed me. and then adam came and met me. he was drunk and happy with himself and he made me smile. he does that a lot.
on saturday he drove us up to my old village where i used to live. it made me quite sad to see how everything had changed. my old house looks grey and miserable. they've ripped down the fence and taken out the flower beds. they've built houses on the fields i used to play in. my old school, which used to teach just forty pupils has now doubled in size. my dragonfly mozaic is gone. the old traditional pub my dad used to take me to on wednesday nights is now a sports bar. clare the barmaid who used to plait my hair doesn't work there anymore.
i left feeling sad.
i guess we all grow up, and everything changes.
Thursday 14 April 2005
whirlwind
i know i haven't written for a long time.
since adam came home we've spent every single day together. it's been nice to have him around. it's strange. i feel exactly as i felt this time last year when the relationship between anthony and i was starting to accelerate. in truth, i was still in love with jordan at the time.
i really don't want to say this but i fear that now, while my relationship with adam starts to whirlwind and escalate, i'm starting to realise that i may actually still have some feelings left for the young man i loathe.
loathe, but miss.
i keep dreaming about him. and in all these dreams victoria is there and he's ignoring me and i'm sitting in a corner somewhere watching helplessly as they fall in love with each other.
i automatically tell myself i don't want him back, but i suppose i do. i wish i didn't though. and poor adam. i can see how much he cares about me.
yes, this is definitely a familiar feeling. i have no feelings left for jordan now, so maybe this time next year i'll have no feelings left for anthony.
adam makes me feel as happy as the smile i slap on my face makes me look. he gives me goosebumps. he makes me shiver. he stimulates me. we talk about relevant matters, news, life, love. real things. and then we talk about nothing a lot of the time too. and then sometimes we're just happy to be silent together. i feel constantly awake and aware when i'm with him. and i love it.
yet anthony still plays on my mind. we don't really talk anymore; we only do when i'm getting in touch with his mother. he'll always be anthony who saved me on his big white horse. it makes me smile sadly thinking about the year we spent together. all the stupid things that happened. all the alcohol. all the drugs. all the arguments. all the mistakes. all the times we fell on the floor laughing at ourselves.
i'm smiling right now. but i'm so sad.
adam's such a nice boy.
since adam came home we've spent every single day together. it's been nice to have him around. it's strange. i feel exactly as i felt this time last year when the relationship between anthony and i was starting to accelerate. in truth, i was still in love with jordan at the time.
i really don't want to say this but i fear that now, while my relationship with adam starts to whirlwind and escalate, i'm starting to realise that i may actually still have some feelings left for the young man i loathe.
loathe, but miss.
i keep dreaming about him. and in all these dreams victoria is there and he's ignoring me and i'm sitting in a corner somewhere watching helplessly as they fall in love with each other.
i automatically tell myself i don't want him back, but i suppose i do. i wish i didn't though. and poor adam. i can see how much he cares about me.
yes, this is definitely a familiar feeling. i have no feelings left for jordan now, so maybe this time next year i'll have no feelings left for anthony.
adam makes me feel as happy as the smile i slap on my face makes me look. he gives me goosebumps. he makes me shiver. he stimulates me. we talk about relevant matters, news, life, love. real things. and then we talk about nothing a lot of the time too. and then sometimes we're just happy to be silent together. i feel constantly awake and aware when i'm with him. and i love it.
yet anthony still plays on my mind. we don't really talk anymore; we only do when i'm getting in touch with his mother. he'll always be anthony who saved me on his big white horse. it makes me smile sadly thinking about the year we spent together. all the stupid things that happened. all the alcohol. all the drugs. all the arguments. all the mistakes. all the times we fell on the floor laughing at ourselves.
i'm smiling right now. but i'm so sad.
adam's such a nice boy.
Monday 21 March 2005
adam's been gone since friday morning. we went for a night out together on thursday - st. patrick's day - (50p tequila shots) and then i stayed with him that night. it was probably one of the best nights we've had i think, even though he was leaving within a few hours. how strange.
i'm severely moneyless so another night out on friday was out of the question. instead, i went to my friend's house. there was loads of us there like there always is. all my 'big brothers'. got pissed on other peoples' drink, got stoned on other peoples' joints. it was good.
it sounds weird, but big sisters male friends all look after me and make me feel safe, and they make sure i'm having a good time too. they put me on a pedastool as though no one deserves
me, no one quite compares. it's unnerving.
when i got up to leave, three of them stood up and insisted on walking me home. i've learned not to protest. we were walking down the front street when i saw stu sitting in his car. he's one anthony's friends who live at 'the flat', where i knew anthony would be.
he wound down his window and we started chatting, and he offered me a lift home. after much debate, the big brothers let me be. they know who stu is, so they weren't too perplexed by the idea.
in the car, there was little talk really. stu is sweet, but quiet, and doesn't really meet the grade if you know what i mean. he did say one thing though. we were just outside my house. 'he's got no idea what he's lost hannah. he's made the biggest mistake of his life; everyone knows that but him.'
i smiled politely, somewhat pissed off that everyone seems to think it plays on my mind so much that i need constant consoling.
i wished adam was there so we could lie down by the fire and let our cups of tea get cold.
i'm severely moneyless so another night out on friday was out of the question. instead, i went to my friend's house. there was loads of us there like there always is. all my 'big brothers'. got pissed on other peoples' drink, got stoned on other peoples' joints. it was good.
it sounds weird, but big sisters male friends all look after me and make me feel safe, and they make sure i'm having a good time too. they put me on a pedastool as though no one deserves
me, no one quite compares. it's unnerving.
when i got up to leave, three of them stood up and insisted on walking me home. i've learned not to protest. we were walking down the front street when i saw stu sitting in his car. he's one anthony's friends who live at 'the flat', where i knew anthony would be.
he wound down his window and we started chatting, and he offered me a lift home. after much debate, the big brothers let me be. they know who stu is, so they weren't too perplexed by the idea.
in the car, there was little talk really. stu is sweet, but quiet, and doesn't really meet the grade if you know what i mean. he did say one thing though. we were just outside my house. 'he's got no idea what he's lost hannah. he's made the biggest mistake of his life; everyone knows that but him.'
i smiled politely, somewhat pissed off that everyone seems to think it plays on my mind so much that i need constant consoling.
i wished adam was there so we could lie down by the fire and let our cups of tea get cold.
Thursday 17 March 2005
the boy
since sunday i've been working non-stop. finished most of it last night though. got to see adam again, for the first time since sunday morning.
what a fucking tit i was on saturday night.
we were lying in bed talking last night and i apologised to him for the way i acted on saturday and for ruining it all. he didn't say anything. i think he was letting me know that i had every right to feel like a tit.
he mentioned the fact that it will months before we get the chance to have a night alone like that again. was that him subtley pointing out that he'd have to wait even longer now? i think he's getting sick of it. i am too.
he's going to korea tomorrow morning - for two weeks. i'll miss him not being here. i'll miss him. a lot. i always need a boy to lean on. either emotionally or physically.
maybe this one's more than that though
what a fucking tit i was on saturday night.
we were lying in bed talking last night and i apologised to him for the way i acted on saturday and for ruining it all. he didn't say anything. i think he was letting me know that i had every right to feel like a tit.
he mentioned the fact that it will months before we get the chance to have a night alone like that again. was that him subtley pointing out that he'd have to wait even longer now? i think he's getting sick of it. i am too.
he's going to korea tomorrow morning - for two weeks. i'll miss him not being here. i'll miss him. a lot. i always need a boy to lean on. either emotionally or physically.
maybe this one's more than that though
Sunday 13 March 2005
three words
last night was 'the night' me and adam had been waiting for for more than a month now. and i managed to fuck it right up.
his parents were at a wedding in bristol - the house to ourselves. it was going so well: he made me dinner, we had grown up conversation, we sat in the conservatory, we listened to music, and he poured me red wine.
i remember sitting with him in his conservatory, watching the words flow out of his mouth. he's such a beautiful person.
and the music! of all the albums in the world he could play he chose that one. he seems to know so many things about me that i've never come close to explaining.
i wish i hadn't drank so much. wine all over his carpet - stains on your carpet, like stains on the scenery.
of course he stopped drinking long before i did, and by the time we got into bed i was having trouble acting normal.
i thought i was so ready, but i was just so nervous.
he says things to me that make me feel as beautiful as he is. but then why do i feel like it's all one big lie? i always hide my face from him, so that he can't see my smile, or my sad expression. he doesn't realise who i really am. i'm ugly.
i don't remember my new specially-selected-for-that-night black underwear coming off. nor do i remember how close we apparantely came to making love for the first time. i saw the empty packet when i woke up at 7am and my heart sank - had i missed it? he assured me i hadn't - we hadn't.
we'd been waiting so long for that night and i fucked it up. what a fucking idiot.
we lay in bed all day today - until about 4 this afternoon. my intestinal fortitude were churning - as though the way that my body's urges overruled my head was too much for my stomach to take.
i'm so lucky he's such a gentleman.
when we both eventually got out of bed and started to get ready, he put his arms around me and i put my head against his chest.
i swear i heard him whisper three words. but of course i pretended i didn't.
what if i was meant to hear them though?
his parents were at a wedding in bristol - the house to ourselves. it was going so well: he made me dinner, we had grown up conversation, we sat in the conservatory, we listened to music, and he poured me red wine.
i remember sitting with him in his conservatory, watching the words flow out of his mouth. he's such a beautiful person.
and the music! of all the albums in the world he could play he chose that one. he seems to know so many things about me that i've never come close to explaining.
i wish i hadn't drank so much. wine all over his carpet - stains on your carpet, like stains on the scenery.
of course he stopped drinking long before i did, and by the time we got into bed i was having trouble acting normal.
i thought i was so ready, but i was just so nervous.
he says things to me that make me feel as beautiful as he is. but then why do i feel like it's all one big lie? i always hide my face from him, so that he can't see my smile, or my sad expression. he doesn't realise who i really am. i'm ugly.
i don't remember my new specially-selected-for-that-night black underwear coming off. nor do i remember how close we apparantely came to making love for the first time. i saw the empty packet when i woke up at 7am and my heart sank - had i missed it? he assured me i hadn't - we hadn't.
we'd been waiting so long for that night and i fucked it up. what a fucking idiot.
we lay in bed all day today - until about 4 this afternoon. my intestinal fortitude were churning - as though the way that my body's urges overruled my head was too much for my stomach to take.
i'm so lucky he's such a gentleman.
when we both eventually got out of bed and started to get ready, he put his arms around me and i put my head against his chest.
i swear i heard him whisper three words. but of course i pretended i didn't.
what if i was meant to hear them though?
Thursday 10 March 2005
the young american
oh, the shit that's surfaced recently.
so much shit. all landing right on top of me.
adam searched this site and found it. read everything. that's why some entries are private now. he texted me on tuesday afternoon asking if he could come round early cos we needed to talk. i had no idea it was about this though.
so who are you then? neon princess, with your pretty lies.
i actually froze. i actually felt the icey chill trickle from the top of my skull down to the tips of my toes. my mouth wouldn't open, my eyes wouldn't close, my head wouldn't turn. and all the time his stare was fixed directly between my eyes.
there was a lot of silence for a while.
he said one of the worst things he read was this:
...then he looks at me and tells me he's falling for me.
What The Fuck?
i felt guilty. he's not falling for me at all. just the person i let him believe i am...
i didn't know what to say to him. i felt a large brick in the centre of my stomach, weighing me down, pulling me to the floor. where i fucking belong.
we went to the pub for my sister's birthday later on. as though nothing had happened. as though he had no recollection of these dirty pages. nothing.
i got pissed on mai tais and long island ice teas. adam soberly drove me home at about midnight. i invited him in for 'tea', which grew stone cold while we messed around on my living room carpet.
yesterday i went to a conference in newcastle with school. i already know how much trouble i'm in, but my parents had none whatsoever. they were informed and that's why i didn't want to go home after the conference. adam was at uni, so i met him at 6 and we went for a drink together.
when i was on my own, i walked past a debate going on at the top of northumbria street. i turned around and stood and listened for about half an hour. it was about god.
i envied the young american spreading the message of greatness, love, faith, hope, glory. i wished i could feel those things as intensely as he obviously does. just to feel them at all would be good enough.
to feel loved solely for being me.
to belong.
so much shit. all landing right on top of me.
adam searched this site and found it. read everything. that's why some entries are private now. he texted me on tuesday afternoon asking if he could come round early cos we needed to talk. i had no idea it was about this though.
so who are you then? neon princess, with your pretty lies.
i actually froze. i actually felt the icey chill trickle from the top of my skull down to the tips of my toes. my mouth wouldn't open, my eyes wouldn't close, my head wouldn't turn. and all the time his stare was fixed directly between my eyes.
there was a lot of silence for a while.
he said one of the worst things he read was this:
...then he looks at me and tells me he's falling for me.
What The Fuck?
i felt guilty. he's not falling for me at all. just the person i let him believe i am...
i didn't know what to say to him. i felt a large brick in the centre of my stomach, weighing me down, pulling me to the floor. where i fucking belong.
we went to the pub for my sister's birthday later on. as though nothing had happened. as though he had no recollection of these dirty pages. nothing.
i got pissed on mai tais and long island ice teas. adam soberly drove me home at about midnight. i invited him in for 'tea', which grew stone cold while we messed around on my living room carpet.
yesterday i went to a conference in newcastle with school. i already know how much trouble i'm in, but my parents had none whatsoever. they were informed and that's why i didn't want to go home after the conference. adam was at uni, so i met him at 6 and we went for a drink together.
when i was on my own, i walked past a debate going on at the top of northumbria street. i turned around and stood and listened for about half an hour. it was about god.
i envied the young american spreading the message of greatness, love, faith, hope, glory. i wished i could feel those things as intensely as he obviously does. just to feel them at all would be good enough.
to feel loved solely for being me.
to belong.
Tuesday 8 March 2005
captivating, graceful, innocent
i thought maybe i could squeeze in a quick entry.
more has happened, yet again. much more though. friday night was hilarious, again. me, tanya and noah got steadily pissed, not on a par with the week before mind, but still pretty far gone.
ran into alison. nuff said.
we met up with adam close to closing time, and he followed us to another bar and then we all ended up at my house. in bed, we took things a bit further than we have so far. it felt good. i'll say that much. no S-E-X though.
we were lying together, naked for the first time, hands everywhere. then he looks at me and tells me he's falling for me.
What The Fuck?
i felt guilty. he's not falling for me at all. just the person i let him believe i am.
i remember looking at the clock and seeing it was 5 in the morning. then closing my eyes and falling asleep, naked with someone i really cared about. i felt so peaceful. until 7 when i had to get because house viewers were coming round.
he makes me feel special in a glamorous way, not like anthony ever did or could. he really is... special.
"captivating, graceful, innocent...."
more has happened, yet again. much more though. friday night was hilarious, again. me, tanya and noah got steadily pissed, not on a par with the week before mind, but still pretty far gone.
ran into alison. nuff said.
we met up with adam close to closing time, and he followed us to another bar and then we all ended up at my house. in bed, we took things a bit further than we have so far. it felt good. i'll say that much. no S-E-X though.
we were lying together, naked for the first time, hands everywhere. then he looks at me and tells me he's falling for me.
What The Fuck?
i felt guilty. he's not falling for me at all. just the person i let him believe i am.
i remember looking at the clock and seeing it was 5 in the morning. then closing my eyes and falling asleep, naked with someone i really cared about. i felt so peaceful. until 7 when i had to get because house viewers were coming round.
he makes me feel special in a glamorous way, not like anthony ever did or could. he really is... special.
"captivating, graceful, innocent...."
Thursday 3 March 2005
anthony rang me on tuesday night. 'what's wrong?' 'i just haven't had the chance to ring you. i haven't got long hannah' 'where are you?' 'i'm at the flat' 'ah, right. are you ok? how did it go on moday? (the trial for his court case)'
i heard a girl's voice shouting up the stairs of the flat 'hiya' in an annoying high-pitched squeak. victoria. it made me think about all the times that used to be me.
'i've got to go hannah-' 'yeah' and i hung up on him.
he rang me again on wednesday lunchtime. the trial didn't go too well. he was found guilty - eighteen month ban from driving, £600 fine and to top it all off he was arrested the second he walked out of court for being AWOL from the army for the past two months. he spent the night in jail on monday and on tuesday he got taken back to his new base at catterick to sort everything out.
my heart was bleeding all afternoon.
he rang again at six and then again at ten and i can't help but think that this is wrong, and yet at the same time i'm so glad that he's rang me and he's talking to me. afterall who knows when we'll speak again?
don't judge me. i know it's wrong. i'm only really hurting myself though - and god, i'm so good at it though.
i heard a girl's voice shouting up the stairs of the flat 'hiya' in an annoying high-pitched squeak. victoria. it made me think about all the times that used to be me.
'i've got to go hannah-' 'yeah' and i hung up on him.
he rang me again on wednesday lunchtime. the trial didn't go too well. he was found guilty - eighteen month ban from driving, £600 fine and to top it all off he was arrested the second he walked out of court for being AWOL from the army for the past two months. he spent the night in jail on monday and on tuesday he got taken back to his new base at catterick to sort everything out.
my heart was bleeding all afternoon.
he rang again at six and then again at ten and i can't help but think that this is wrong, and yet at the same time i'm so glad that he's rang me and he's talking to me. afterall who knows when we'll speak again?
don't judge me. i know it's wrong. i'm only really hurting myself though - and god, i'm so good at it though.
Tuesday 1 March 2005
ghb and nipples
i was so tired when i woke up this morning. i can't see why though, i mean i spent practically the whole weekend in bed.
friday was very fun. i went out with noah and tanya again and we did a lot of talking and laughing and relaxing. i feel like i can't do that with anyone else. it's strange. maybe the alcohol plays a factor in it all but then why do i share the most intimate details of my life with noah every other day of the week? i just can't explain it.
i saw a lot of people i knew again. i lost tanya and noah at about midnight, but found adam. i made such a tit out of myself. god knows how many times i was picked up off the floor. god knows how many times my nipples were on show. fucking ghb.
i remember seeing him and grabbing him - while he was in the middle of talking to his friends - and kissing him without even saying a word to him. god, where were my inhibitions that night?
later on i saw anthony's friends martin and julian. we talked and they seemed genuinely concerned about me. julian told me i'd find someone who'd treat me better someday. i smiled carefully and even though i could barely stand i remember thinking to myslef you have absolutely no idea. none of them know the whole story. not one of them.
i looked over at adam then. i introduced them to each other. julian looked at me differently then. i wondered if he was thinking he'd spoken too soon.
when we got home we lay down together in front of the fire. in the morning so many things crossed my mind and i had to think hard to remember exactly what happened with adam before we got into bed - which i don't remember doing.
fuck knows.
friday was very fun. i went out with noah and tanya again and we did a lot of talking and laughing and relaxing. i feel like i can't do that with anyone else. it's strange. maybe the alcohol plays a factor in it all but then why do i share the most intimate details of my life with noah every other day of the week? i just can't explain it.
i saw a lot of people i knew again. i lost tanya and noah at about midnight, but found adam. i made such a tit out of myself. god knows how many times i was picked up off the floor. god knows how many times my nipples were on show. fucking ghb.
i remember seeing him and grabbing him - while he was in the middle of talking to his friends - and kissing him without even saying a word to him. god, where were my inhibitions that night?
later on i saw anthony's friends martin and julian. we talked and they seemed genuinely concerned about me. julian told me i'd find someone who'd treat me better someday. i smiled carefully and even though i could barely stand i remember thinking to myslef you have absolutely no idea. none of them know the whole story. not one of them.
i looked over at adam then. i introduced them to each other. julian looked at me differently then. i wondered if he was thinking he'd spoken too soon.
when we got home we lay down together in front of the fire. in the morning so many things crossed my mind and i had to think hard to remember exactly what happened with adam before we got into bed - which i don't remember doing.
fuck knows.
Tuesday 22 February 2005
Anastasia
The internet’s down at school so I’m writing this in word and I’ll paste it in later.
The weekend was pretty interesting. The Charity Ball on Friday night went smoothly and I managed to last the entire party without any of my dirty little secrets revealing themselves. I felt unbearably sober. As though I was the only one in the room without an alcoholic drink in my hand – well, that’s not too far from the truth. I’ve never felt so tense, nervous, excited, sick to my stomach at the thought of the truth coming out. Yet, it didn’t. That’s good, right?
I felt like a Princess looking in the mirror at home – the dress, the make up, the hair. But then when I arrived at the party I felt small, like a naïve little girl at a party of grown ups. You can never let these things show, though. Keep them hidden, like everything else.
After a few drinks Adam grew moody and from looking at my phone, I’m sure he tried to ring Anthony. He started to ask me why he came round on Valentine’s Day – ‘It was just like any other day. It wasn’t meant to mean anything special’ – ‘Yeah. To you, maybe’ He said a while ago that he’d seen my eyes before somewhere – when he was standing on a cliff, looking out to the sea in Cornwall. I looked at him then and wondered if he knew what I was thinking while he looked at my eyes. I hope not.
We went out together again on Saturday night, and when we walked back to his house early in the morning – the temperature outside being about -1, it started to snow. He stopped me when we reached a bridge, standing under the light of a streetlamp. ‘You look beautiful with snowflakes in your hair.’
I froze. He kissed me. I couldn’t move. Who is this? How the fuck do you know all these things about me? ‘What’s the matter, Anastasia?’ (he joked that I looked like a Russian spy that night) I smiled slightly – ‘Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. Just cold.’ He smiled and put his arms around me.
‘We’ll go straight to bed when we get in.’
I wanted to cry.
The weekend was pretty interesting. The Charity Ball on Friday night went smoothly and I managed to last the entire party without any of my dirty little secrets revealing themselves. I felt unbearably sober. As though I was the only one in the room without an alcoholic drink in my hand – well, that’s not too far from the truth. I’ve never felt so tense, nervous, excited, sick to my stomach at the thought of the truth coming out. Yet, it didn’t. That’s good, right?
I felt like a Princess looking in the mirror at home – the dress, the make up, the hair. But then when I arrived at the party I felt small, like a naïve little girl at a party of grown ups. You can never let these things show, though. Keep them hidden, like everything else.
After a few drinks Adam grew moody and from looking at my phone, I’m sure he tried to ring Anthony. He started to ask me why he came round on Valentine’s Day – ‘It was just like any other day. It wasn’t meant to mean anything special’ – ‘Yeah. To you, maybe’ He said a while ago that he’d seen my eyes before somewhere – when he was standing on a cliff, looking out to the sea in Cornwall. I looked at him then and wondered if he knew what I was thinking while he looked at my eyes. I hope not.
We went out together again on Saturday night, and when we walked back to his house early in the morning – the temperature outside being about -1, it started to snow. He stopped me when we reached a bridge, standing under the light of a streetlamp. ‘You look beautiful with snowflakes in your hair.’
I froze. He kissed me. I couldn’t move. Who is this? How the fuck do you know all these things about me? ‘What’s the matter, Anastasia?’ (he joked that I looked like a Russian spy that night) I smiled slightly – ‘Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. Just cold.’ He smiled and put his arms around me.
‘We’ll go straight to bed when we get in.’
I wanted to cry.
Thursday 17 February 2005
interflora day
as always, much had happened since i last wrote.
mumps sucks ass. seriously. i thought i was going to die last week.
friday 4th : went out with my 'older' friends yvonne and julie. got pissed. took speed. met my 'younger' friends noah, tanya and marissa. made an amazaing effort to be civil to people i once had a problem being civil to. saw so many people i hadn't seen in ages. like phil and michael, beau's friends. adam came to meet me in the club about five minutes before closing time. i said goodbye to my friends. me and adam bumped into beau. i introduced them to each other - which of course wasn't awkward at all. it was about 12 30 and the speed was well in circulation by this point. i made adam drive us to the beach, and we sat there for about two hours, me talking incessantly, him listening carefully. then we drove back to my house, and we didn't get into bed until 4am. but of course i didn't sleep. no sleep for the speedy.
on saturday morning i was a mess. and i was starting to get a lump between my jaw and my ear. this got worse and on sunday night i had to go to accident and emergency. mumps was diagnosed.
on monday morning my parents were at work. i was in bed, asleep, dreaming. someone woke me up, shaking me gently. it was anthony, holding his old key up.
surprised? me? no, no.
shocked.
i told him he couldn't come near me and because i was tired and shocked there was a lot of confusion. when i got round to telling him i had mumps he just laughed and gave me a cuddle. 'no wonder you look like shit'. after a while i got tired and said he should leave.
the next day i had to get the bus to the doctors to get some stronger painkillers. the journey there was bad enough. sitting in the waiting room was a nightmare. i looked like a freak with a massive balloon sticking out the side of my face, and i was freezing cold, temperatures all over the place, the pain in my stomach was terrible, and i was so, so tired. i texted anthony asking him to ring me. i couldn't bear the thought of getting on the bus again.
half an hour later, just coming out of the doctors surgery, he rings me. he's whispering, i barely understand him. 'have you got money?' 'yeah' 'then i can't hannah. i'm sorry. i'm with vicky' 'ok. bye' god, he cares so so much, right? i'm such a fucking idiot.
adam came round and brought me flowers that night. he made me smile. they were blue and almost made me cry.
on saturday morning i woke up to find 12 red roses had been delivered. adam again. how sweet he is.
later on i got a delivery. five huge red roses delivered by the interflora man. no card. no name. just adressed to me. couldn't be adam...
or maybe it was adam though. he could've sent them just to make me feel even more special. he seems like the kind of person who doesn't need gratitude to make someone feel good.
mumps sucks ass. seriously. i thought i was going to die last week.
friday 4th : went out with my 'older' friends yvonne and julie. got pissed. took speed. met my 'younger' friends noah, tanya and marissa. made an amazaing effort to be civil to people i once had a problem being civil to. saw so many people i hadn't seen in ages. like phil and michael, beau's friends. adam came to meet me in the club about five minutes before closing time. i said goodbye to my friends. me and adam bumped into beau. i introduced them to each other - which of course wasn't awkward at all. it was about 12 30 and the speed was well in circulation by this point. i made adam drive us to the beach, and we sat there for about two hours, me talking incessantly, him listening carefully. then we drove back to my house, and we didn't get into bed until 4am. but of course i didn't sleep. no sleep for the speedy.
on saturday morning i was a mess. and i was starting to get a lump between my jaw and my ear. this got worse and on sunday night i had to go to accident and emergency. mumps was diagnosed.
on monday morning my parents were at work. i was in bed, asleep, dreaming. someone woke me up, shaking me gently. it was anthony, holding his old key up.
surprised? me? no, no.
shocked.
i told him he couldn't come near me and because i was tired and shocked there was a lot of confusion. when i got round to telling him i had mumps he just laughed and gave me a cuddle. 'no wonder you look like shit'. after a while i got tired and said he should leave.
the next day i had to get the bus to the doctors to get some stronger painkillers. the journey there was bad enough. sitting in the waiting room was a nightmare. i looked like a freak with a massive balloon sticking out the side of my face, and i was freezing cold, temperatures all over the place, the pain in my stomach was terrible, and i was so, so tired. i texted anthony asking him to ring me. i couldn't bear the thought of getting on the bus again.
half an hour later, just coming out of the doctors surgery, he rings me. he's whispering, i barely understand him. 'have you got money?' 'yeah' 'then i can't hannah. i'm sorry. i'm with vicky' 'ok. bye' god, he cares so so much, right? i'm such a fucking idiot.
adam came round and brought me flowers that night. he made me smile. they were blue and almost made me cry.
on saturday morning i woke up to find 12 red roses had been delivered. adam again. how sweet he is.
later on i got a delivery. five huge red roses delivered by the interflora man. no card. no name. just adressed to me. couldn't be adam...
or maybe it was adam though. he could've sent them just to make me feel even more special. he seems like the kind of person who doesn't need gratitude to make someone feel good.
Wednesday 2 February 2005
I’m pretty pissed off because I spent my whole double free writing one big ass long entry yesterday and xanga wiped it – fucking twats.
Anyway.
To summarise what I wrote, Anthony is long long gone. He was long gone last time I wrote a proper entry but as always there was that small part of me left hoping he’d realise that he could never really leave me – he did promise that he’d always take care of me. He wouldn’t – couldn’t leave me. Could he?
…
I got a phonecall last week, at about midnight. He’s depressed again. Why can’t you talk to Victoria? - It’s not that sort of relationship – I thought she loved you? – She said she does – I think you should be talking to her right now – She doesn’t care, Hannah. Not like you do (long pause, while I bite my tongue)
Do you realise that the last time you made an effort to speak to me was when you came here two weeks ago? – Don’t pretend you didn’t like me being there
Is it the army again? – Just everything, really. Money, mates, Victoria. (long pause as I hear him take in a mouthful of smoke) I miss you Hannah. Everything’s falling apart again. I need you (and yet all through December he let me believe I was to blame for his nervous breakdown)
Go and see your doctor again. Blag some more time off so you can go to the pub every night and fuck behind Victoria’s back – Princess – What do you want, Anthony? (long, long pause)
I’m sorry. It wasn’t your fault. You were the only one who cared, tried to make it better. I’m sorry (unfortunately none of this was particularly satisfying because I’d known it since I found out about Alison)
You’ve moved on, Anthony. Let me.
It never hurt so much to hang up on him. All those times I was out with Adam in November and he’d ring – I’d hang up without thinking twice. I thought long and hard about him all -night.
Anyway.
To summarise what I wrote, Anthony is long long gone. He was long gone last time I wrote a proper entry but as always there was that small part of me left hoping he’d realise that he could never really leave me – he did promise that he’d always take care of me. He wouldn’t – couldn’t leave me. Could he?
…
I got a phonecall last week, at about midnight. He’s depressed again. Why can’t you talk to Victoria? - It’s not that sort of relationship – I thought she loved you? – She said she does – I think you should be talking to her right now – She doesn’t care, Hannah. Not like you do (long pause, while I bite my tongue)
Do you realise that the last time you made an effort to speak to me was when you came here two weeks ago? – Don’t pretend you didn’t like me being there
Is it the army again? – Just everything, really. Money, mates, Victoria. (long pause as I hear him take in a mouthful of smoke) I miss you Hannah. Everything’s falling apart again. I need you (and yet all through December he let me believe I was to blame for his nervous breakdown)
Go and see your doctor again. Blag some more time off so you can go to the pub every night and fuck behind Victoria’s back – Princess – What do you want, Anthony? (long, long pause)
I’m sorry. It wasn’t your fault. You were the only one who cared, tried to make it better. I’m sorry (unfortunately none of this was particularly satisfying because I’d known it since I found out about Alison)
You’ve moved on, Anthony. Let me.
It never hurt so much to hang up on him. All those times I was out with Adam in November and he’d ring – I’d hang up without thinking twice. I thought long and hard about him all -night.
Friday 21 January 2005
mud
went to see closer with adam last night. i think it's one of the most honest, accurate, real films i've ever seen. it was seriously soo good.
it kind of made me think of me and anthony. in so many ways. i'm not anna, nor am i really alice, but i feel like i know the characters far too well; like i'm stuck in between the two. maybe i'm jane.
everyone should see this film.
driving home in adam's car i got such a weird feeling. we drove past a streetlight and the orange glow reflected off my face into the side mirrors. i looked at myself. then looked at adam. i realised how ugly i am. what a vile, disgusting person sitting next to him.
no matter what he says, all the pretty words, all the little gestures he makes, all the fancy places he takes me to. he makes me feel like mud, and right beside me is this tall, beautiful flower.
he has no idea. no idea at all.
it kind of made me think of me and anthony. in so many ways. i'm not anna, nor am i really alice, but i feel like i know the characters far too well; like i'm stuck in between the two. maybe i'm jane.
everyone should see this film.
driving home in adam's car i got such a weird feeling. we drove past a streetlight and the orange glow reflected off my face into the side mirrors. i looked at myself. then looked at adam. i realised how ugly i am. what a vile, disgusting person sitting next to him.
no matter what he says, all the pretty words, all the little gestures he makes, all the fancy places he takes me to. he makes me feel like mud, and right beside me is this tall, beautiful flower.
he has no idea. no idea at all.
Tuesday 18 January 2005
i wish i didn't get disappointed
i'm at school, sitting in the library with some friends.
i've noticed that even though i've had exams for the last couple of weeks and all the shit with anthony, i've been a lot less stressed out than before.
i feel, sort of neutral. like nothing's making me sad, and nothing's really making me happy either. i'm just, ok. which is better than suicidal i suppose.
i'm not really looking forward to anything, not really regretting anything, not really wishing for anything. nothing. just emptiness really. but i don't feel bad.
i wish i could sleep though. that bothers me. not being able to sleep. ever. it's really annoying. especially when i look at my phone and wish it would start ringing, and 'Anthony (forbidden #)' would appear on my screen. it hardly ever does though.
i hate it when my phone actually does ring, and then i see that it's adam, not anthony.
i wish i didn't get disappointed.
i've noticed that even though i've had exams for the last couple of weeks and all the shit with anthony, i've been a lot less stressed out than before.
i feel, sort of neutral. like nothing's making me sad, and nothing's really making me happy either. i'm just, ok. which is better than suicidal i suppose.
i'm not really looking forward to anything, not really regretting anything, not really wishing for anything. nothing. just emptiness really. but i don't feel bad.
i wish i could sleep though. that bothers me. not being able to sleep. ever. it's really annoying. especially when i look at my phone and wish it would start ringing, and 'Anthony (forbidden #)' would appear on my screen. it hardly ever does though.
i hate it when my phone actually does ring, and then i see that it's adam, not anthony.
i wish i didn't get disappointed.
Tuesday 11 January 2005
£40 Turqouise Underwear
so long since we spoke isn't it? and so so so so much has happened. maybe i'll keep it brief and just say that me and anthony are very much over. it's weird how he's so different, or maybe he was like this all along. i hope not. i really hope not.
so much crying and shouting and arguing and kissing and screaming and fucking and hurting and hating each other.
he let me down so bad. so disappointed in him. so worried about him. what the fuck happened to him? what the fuck did i do? he's changed so much.
i know every single one of the girls he's been with. i fucking introduced him to one. their names make my blood boil, my teeth grind, my fingernails itch and my toes curl.
it wouldn't be so bad if he hadn't came back all those times and then left again, all those times. just last week we tried again, and that was when he met yet another girl.
i feel so stupid for letting myself get hurt like this. what did i expect?
anthony had always been there, always took the shit i gave him and always came back for more. then his nervous breakdown happened. then the car crash. then alison. and then it gets blurry from there onwards, because i was left in the dark on so many things.
i spent £40 on new underwear. what was i thinking? underwear would bring him back? god, and i thought i had pride.
i've been out with adam a few times since christmas. we went to edinburgh together. it was so romantic. i don't want to ruin it by talking about it.
things got heated one time, and he sort of asked me the question - did i want to? (god hes such a gentleman) and i told him that i'd never really been in a relationship like that before. i lied. through my teeth.
me? a fucking virgin? my god, the fucking irony.
he was so sweet. so so sweet.
on saturday night after the night of hell (which i'll explain another time) me and adam went back to his house, and i stayed the night with him. i can't describe how it felt to be lying there feeling so comfortable, without worrying about someone shoving his hand up my t-shirt or down my pants. and he didn't. all night. such a perfect gentleman. he made me feel safe. and i don't think i've ever felt like that before.
we were talking about it ( it being my 'virginity') the other night and he said that whoever it is and whenever i decide to do it, it'll be special because i've waited for it.
i can't figure him out.
i think i want to though.
so much crying and shouting and arguing and kissing and screaming and fucking and hurting and hating each other.
he let me down so bad. so disappointed in him. so worried about him. what the fuck happened to him? what the fuck did i do? he's changed so much.
i know every single one of the girls he's been with. i fucking introduced him to one. their names make my blood boil, my teeth grind, my fingernails itch and my toes curl.
it wouldn't be so bad if he hadn't came back all those times and then left again, all those times. just last week we tried again, and that was when he met yet another girl.
i feel so stupid for letting myself get hurt like this. what did i expect?
anthony had always been there, always took the shit i gave him and always came back for more. then his nervous breakdown happened. then the car crash. then alison. and then it gets blurry from there onwards, because i was left in the dark on so many things.
i spent £40 on new underwear. what was i thinking? underwear would bring him back? god, and i thought i had pride.
i've been out with adam a few times since christmas. we went to edinburgh together. it was so romantic. i don't want to ruin it by talking about it.
things got heated one time, and he sort of asked me the question - did i want to? (god hes such a gentleman) and i told him that i'd never really been in a relationship like that before. i lied. through my teeth.
me? a fucking virgin? my god, the fucking irony.
he was so sweet. so so sweet.
on saturday night after the night of hell (which i'll explain another time) me and adam went back to his house, and i stayed the night with him. i can't describe how it felt to be lying there feeling so comfortable, without worrying about someone shoving his hand up my t-shirt or down my pants. and he didn't. all night. such a perfect gentleman. he made me feel safe. and i don't think i've ever felt like that before.
we were talking about it ( it being my 'virginity') the other night and he said that whoever it is and whenever i decide to do it, it'll be special because i've waited for it.
i can't figure him out.
i think i want to though.
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